


On the Day That I Forget You

by katwithallergies



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-19
Updated: 2012-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-29 18:57:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katwithallergies/pseuds/katwithallergies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're having problems with your memory again?" James fisted his hands in his hair anxiously, bounced his knees against the underside of the table making it rattle.  "When did it start back up?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Day That I Forget You

**Author's Note:**

> Contains content relating to Richard Hammond's head injury sustained in 2006. This could be seen as a sort of companion piece to ["Burn All the Calendars"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/327327) but the two don't perfectly mesh and this can definitely be read on its own.
> 
> Title from the Mountain Goats song "Twin Human Highway Flares"

"You're having problems with your memory again?" James fisted his hands in his hair anxiously, bounced his knees against the underside of the table making it rattle. "When did it start back up?"

Richard waved off a passing waitress and smiled at him. It was his sad smile; James knew them all.  "It never stopped." He glanced around a little vacantly and wrapped his hands around his steaming mug of tea.

"Jesus, Richard! It's August! It's been almost a year." James' breaths were getting more labored. He shoved both his hands under the table to hide them and clenched his fists tight.

"I know. It hasn't been this bad all along," Richard glanced over at James, let his eyes slide past him and focus somewhere over his shoulder. "But now, it's like I can feel things sinking down, away. Like forgetting a dream. I can remember this morning, but not yesterday.  I remember parts of last week-- was it last week we filmed the bit about the new Ferrari? --but not much before then."

"Well, what..." James stuttered, swallowed hard, "what don't you remember?"

Richard smiled again. This one was impish, but still a little sad. "Well that's the thing about forgetting, isn't it? I wouldn't know."

James' breath caught in his throat with a sound like cloth tearing on a nail.  His expression broke and he hid it behind one hand, his other hand now restlessly tearing up a paper straw wrapper. Richard reached across the table tentatively and placed his hand over James'.

"We, uh, we've been more than friends, yeah?"

James stilled. "Yes. I mean. Sometimes. Jesus, mate. If you don't remember how we got here then I feel like you need to make that decision for yourself. Again. Jesus." He exhaled hard and stared at the dirt on the floor. There was a gum wrapper stuck to the leg of the table by his shoe.

Richard squeezed his hand, jostled his leg under the table. "Already made, mate."  James scrubbed at his wet eyes with one hand.  He didn't trust himself to speak. "I remember--" Richard's voice trailed off, grasping for the words.  "Well, it's like the emotion is still there, even though I've lost the specifics."

"You don't remember... anything?"  James said slowly. His grasp on Richard's hand went slack as he tried to grasp all the memories of which he was now the sole keeper. "You don't remember any of our Firsts."

"Don't think of it that way." Richard dropped his head down until he could catch James' eye and smile at him. His sincerest smile. "I get to have them all over again."


End file.
